


The One Where Shepard Didn't Want To Be A Soldier

by ShootingStar7123



Series: Origins [6]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Art, Ballet, Classical Music, Dancing, F/M, Friendship, Introspection, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 00:56:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18487993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShootingStar7123/pseuds/ShootingStar7123
Summary: Part of the "Origins" series, which is about putting a twist on Shepard's canon origins.Spacer Shepard had no intention of going into the family business. Her dreams tended in another direction.





	The One Where Shepard Didn't Want To Be A Soldier

When Shepard started the mako’s engines, Garrus and Wrex heard a strange, fluid music coming through the speakers.

 

“What is this crap?” Wrex asked.

 

Shepard rolled her eyes, but a smile threatened at the corner of her mouth. “This is classical music, Wrex. From Earth.”

 

“Not much of a beat to it,” Garrus said. It was nothing like the club music he heard everywhere on the Citadel, nor like the marching anthems that turian music was known for.

 

“It has rhythm,” she said, holding the boost to slow the mako’s descent. “It’s just more subtle.”

 

Garrus listened for a bit and supposed she was right. It was different, but not in a bad way.

 

“I don’t like it,” Wrex grumbled after they’d landed. “Not enough punch.”

 

Shepard’s little smile turned into a full-blown grin. “Remind me to introduce you to the 1812 Overture sometime. It includes cannons.”

 

“Cannons?” Wrex repeated, then laughed. “I like you humans more and more all the time.”

 

…

 

…

 

“Commander?” Tali asked, staring into the captain’s quarters in puzzlement. Shepard was—dancing?—to some instrumental music playing over the speakers. Her arms swept over her head in a flowing arc, a foot pointed out behind her.

 

Shepard stopped her movements, looking over at Tali in the doorway. “Come in,” she said, pausing the music with her omni-tool. “Did you need something?”

 

“What were you just doing?” the quarian asked curiously. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

 

Shepard motioned Tali towards a chair. “It’s a style of Earth dance called ballet. I like to incorporate some basic steps into my morning workout. But I’m sure my workout habits aren’t why you’re here. What can I do for you, Tali?”

 

“Oh,” Tali said, feeling flustered. She’d been so distracted she almost forgot her purpose. “I wanted to talk to you about that geth data. Can I take a copy of it home with me? For my pilgrimage?” she asked. Anxiety thrummed in her chest until Shepard smiled.

 

“Of course you can,” Shepard assured her. “But will you stay until the end of the mission at least?”

 

“Of course!” Tali said quickly. “I want to see this through. I think that’s what the pilgrimage is about. Seeing that we’re part of a larger universe. If I go back before I finish this with you, it’s like I didn’t learn anything at all.”

 

Shepard’s smile warmed. “I’m going to miss you when you go back to your people, Tali.”

 

“We’ll keep in touch,” Tali said firmly. “That’s what the extranet is for! Speaking of the extranet, do you think you could find me a vid of that dance you were doing earlier?”

 

Shepard laughed. “Yeah, Tali. I can do that.”

 

…

 

…

 

“Maybe take her out dancing or something,” Tali said with a shrug. “She likes to dance.”

 

“Are you sure about that?” Kaidan asked, looking warily down at the dance floor where Shepard did an odd little side-step motion.

 

Tali followed his gaze. “It didn’t look like that when she was dancing before,” she said, uncertainty in her voice.

 

Shepard grinned, waving up at them. “Come dance,” she called.

 

Kaidan shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

 

…

 

…

 

She’d always felt that fighting was a bit like ballet. Perhaps that’s why she’d taken to it so easily when her original plans had fallen through. It was about knowing the right moves. Anticipating your partner.

 

She ducked smoothly under the krogan’s arm before pirouetting to shoot him in the back.

 

She took a few long, leaping steps ( _like a jeté_ , her mind supplied) to reach the environmental control systems. She flipped the switch, but had no time to enjoy her work. Two more vorcha were coming down upon her as she stood.

 

_A pas de trois,_ she thought with humor, but shook it off.

 

Omega was no place for dancing.

 

…

 

…

 

Shepard smiled over her beer at the turian sitting across from her. She was glad she’d been able to pull him away from his calibrations long enough for him to come for a chat.

 

“I’m really glad you’re here, Garrus,” she confessed.

 

He looked like he belonged in her quarters, lounged back in the chair with a bottle of beer dangling from his fingers. She suppressed the thought that she’d like to keep him there.

 

“You know me,” he said casually. “I couldn’t let you get all the glory of saving the galaxy again.”

 

“Seriously,” she said. “I couldn’t do this without you. It was hard enough when I was in the Alliance, and now without them to turn to…” She sighed. “You know, I never wanted to be a soldier.”

 

His sharp blue eyes snapped to her. “That’s surprising, considering how good you are at it.” He took a sip of his beer. “What did you want to be?”

 

“A dancer,” she confessed, and he chuckled. “Don’t laugh, I’m serious!” she said.

 

“Shepard, I’ve seen you dance,” he said. “I think you made the right choice.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “You’ve only seen me dance in a club. Club dancing is about as far as you can get from what I was trained for.”

 

“And what’s that?” he asked curiously.

 

“Ballet. It’s an old, classical style of dancing. I studied at a renowned ballet academy when I was young. I begged and begged my mom to let me go. But then I had a toe injury that didn’t heal correctly. It was the end of my ballet career. Mom basically strong-armed me into the Alliance after that.”

 

His mandibles fluttered. “A toe injury?” It was obvious he couldn’t understand how that would have an effect.

 

“Professional ballet involves dancing on the very tip of your toes,” she said, roughly demonstrating with her own toes against the floor. Garrus stared at her bare feet. “After my injury I couldn’t put my weight on my right toe.”

 

Shepard flexed her foot and Garrus turned his attention back to her face. He let out a hum. “Have you tried since Cerberus brought you back?” he asked.

 

Shepard stared at him. “I don’t—”

 

“Cerberus repaired your body,” he interrupted. “Maybe that’s fixed too.”

 

Shepard blinked, her heart beginning to race. “I… never considered that.”

 

“No time like the present,” he said, looking rather satisfied with himself.

 

“I don’t have proper toe shoes,” she said, hesitating.

 

“Do you need them? Just to try it out?”

 

“Well, no… but I’ll need something to lean on and balance against.” She glanced around the room as she got up from the couch. Maybe the railing on the stairs could work as a barre?

 

“I volunteer,” Garrus said, standing.

 

Shepard laughed. “Are you sure you’re steady enough?” she teased. “You’ve been drinking.”

 

“I’m no lightweight, Commander,” he said and held out his hands.

 

He held his hands steady as she pressed down on them, testing him out. She placed her hands firmly in his. With a deep breath, she went up on pointe and looked up into his face.

 

“You’re doing it,” he said softly, his mandibles flaring a little. “How does it feel?”

 

“Good,” she said breathlessly, staring up into his blue eyes. “Perfect.”

 

Shepard blinked, suddenly realizing how close they were standing. She dropped back onto her feet, letting go of his hands.

 

“Thank you, Garrus,” she said, backing away to her seat and picking up her beer. She took a sip, trying to hide the way her heart was racing. “I don’t think I’ll be leaving to join a ballet company anytime soon, but…” She smiled. “It feels good to know I can dance again.”

 

Garrus dropped back into his chair, lounging casually as if nothing had happened at all. Only the intensity in his gaze belied him. “Anything for you, Commander.”

 

Shepard smiled at Garrus, a warm feeling in her chest. Something had changed, something that had nothing to do with dancing.

 

…

 

…

 

Shepard stepped into her quarters and frowned. There was a box on her bed that she hadn’t left there.

 

She walked over to the bed and picked up a scrap of paper sitting on top.

 

_I came across these and thought you might like them. – Kasumi_

 

Shepard set the paper aside and curiously opened the box. A gasp ripped the air from her throat as she beheld a brand new pair of toe shoes.

 

…

 

…

 

Shepard frowned at her closet. She didn’t think that black leather dress was going to cut it for Garrus’s surprise date tonight. He said to wear something nice. Did she have time for shopping? Did she even _want_ to go shopping? Her frown deepened.

 

The chime for her door rang. “Come in,” she said, welcoming a distraction though it was unlikely to help with her predicament. The door opened to show Liara carrying a garment bag and Traynor holding a small plastic case.

 

Shepard looked from one to the other in confusion. “What’s going on?”

 

Traynor smiled brightly at her. “Garrus said he had a special date planned for you tonight and we thought we’d help you get ready!”

 

She stared at them in bafflement. “Well, that’s nice but I don’t even know what he has planned…”

 

“But we do,” Liara said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “And we’ve brought everything you need.”

 

She was ushered back into her room by her friends and wondered just what Garrus had gotten her into.

 

Two hours later, Shepard was standing at the airlock in a cocktail gown of navy blue, with sparkling flats on her feet and a delicate beaded purse in her hand. Her carefully made-up face was frowning, as she hadn’t much appreciated the stares of her crew as she walked through the CIC. Where the hell was Garrus? And what was all this for, anyways?

 

Her frown disappeared when she saw him, dressed in a dashing suit of blue and black.

 

“Wow,” he said, mandibles fluttering at the sight of her. “You look beautiful.”

 

She smiled. “You look very handsome too. Now will you tell me where we’re going?” she asked impatiently.

 

Garrus chuckled. “You’ll see soon.”

 

They took a skycar to a part of the Citadel she’d never seen before. When they got out, they were surrounded by people of all races in fine cocktail attire. “What is this?” Shepard asked.

 

Garrus, smiling, pointed at an advertisement across the way.

 

_Bolshoi Ballet,_ it read. _One-night charity performance in support of the war effort._

 

She clutched at Garrus’s arm. “Really?” She couldn’t stop the smile growing on her face.

 

He nodded, smiling back. “Really. Hard to get tickets at the last minute, but dropping your name does wonders.”

 

They couldn’t avoid talking to a few acquaintances as they went inside—much of the upper echelon of the Citadel population was present—but Shepard barely minded. She was too excited. Her heart was racing as the curtain rose. She hadn’t seen a live performance in so long.

 

Throughout the performance, she was gratified to see Garrus beside her, as mesmerized as she. He seemed engaged in the story as they performed the classic Sleeping Beauty.

 

“What did you think?” she asked him on the skycar ride back to the Normandy.

 

“It was impressive how high they jumped without any biotic assistance. And all that spinning on their toes! This is what you used to do?” He looked at her with admiration, enough to make her blush.

 

“You just watched some of the most talented dancers in the galaxy,” she reminded him. “I’m not quite up to their caliber.”

 

“You were planning to make a career of it, weren’t you?” he asked pointedly.

 

Shepard shrugged—he had caught her out. But it had been fifteen years since she’d danced. She wasn’t at that level anymore. Still, she let him give her that smug, satisfied grin, and settled her head against his shoulder.

 

“Garrus?” she said, after they’d been quiet a few moments. “Thank you.”

 

…

 

…

 

“I don’t have the resources of Cerberus,” Miranda warned.

 

“Then it’s a good thing you don’t have to bring me back from the dead this time,” Shepard countered, raising her brows at her old friend through the comm connection. “Fixing my legs should be a piece of cake.”

 

Miranda sighed and shook her head. “Send me your medical reports,” she said, giving in. “I’ll give you a list of the equipment I need. Once you get your hands on it, we’ll talk.”

 

Shepard smiled. “Miranda, my best friend is the Shadow Broker. You may as well book your flight already.”

 

…

 

…

 

“I thought,” Hannah Shepard said, her voice staticky through the audio connection, “That when you went to the trouble of having your legs repaired, your intention was to continue your career in the Alliance.”

 

“You never asked,” Shepard replied, frowning at the comm though her mother couldn’t see it. “This is what I always wanted.”

 

Hannah’s huff of breath was loud and heavy. “I suppose I always knew that. Let me know when it’s up and running and I’ll come visit when I have leave.”

 

“Thanks, Mom,” Shepard said, grateful for some small concession. “We’ll talk soon.”

 

“Bye, sweetie.”

 

Shepard felt two strong arms wrap around her from behind as the call ended, and a smile spread her lips.

 

“How bad?” he asked.

 

Shepard turned in his arms, wrapping hers around his neck. “Not quite as bad as the ‘turian son in law’ conversation,” she said with a shrug. Her smile faltered a bit. “You don’t think I’m crazy, do you? Opening a dance studio after all this?”

 

Garrus nuzzled her neck. “No,” he said firmly. “Everyone has to have dreams. And besides, since I started my art classes, I’ve been looking forward to painting ballerinas like that one Earth artist you showed me…”

 

“Degas?” she asked with a laugh. Only Garrus would aspire to one of the most famed artists of all time after a few weeks of painting lessons.

 

“That’s the one,” he replied. “I’m going to need a muse.” He nuzzled her neck again, nipping gently at the soft skin there.

 

“Mmm,” she said. “Well, I’m starting to feel inspired.”

 

“For something other than art, I think,” Garrus replied, and swept her into his arms.

 

…

**Author's Note:**

> If I made any mistakes regarding ballet terms, I apologize. I took ballet as a child, but I am by no means an expert! 
> 
> The Bolshoi Ballet is a Russian ballet company considered one of the best in the world. Edgar Degas is a French impressionist artist who is famous for his paintings of ballerinas.


End file.
